


Hogwarts Boarding School of Witchcraft and Wizardry

by IDoNotHaveACat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Boarding School, Gen, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, What-If
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-20
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-12 06:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28881318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IDoNotHaveACat/pseuds/IDoNotHaveACat
Summary: “I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!” yelled Uncle Vernon.At first, it looked like Hagrid would explode, and he started to speak in a low tone. Then, a woman Harry hadn't noticed before spoke up. "You won't be paying for anything, Mr Dursley. His tuition was paid in full when he was born. Fleamont Potter, rest his soul, was a very smart investor after all." The woman was solidly built, and could be anywhere from 40 to 100 years old in Harry's book. She was wearing a long, collared dress, and an apron, like a nurse in one of Uncle Vernon's war movies, but she spoke sharply, and with such authority that Uncle Vernon looked like a chastised school boy. "Harry, my name is Miss Candledown, Matron for  Gryffindor House. It is very nice to meet you." She held out her hand for him to shake.----Hogwarts, but written as an actual British boarding school, with capable staff, rules and traditions which span centuries. Think Mallory Towers, but with magic and more threat of death.She who must not be named didn't do a /great/ job of representing what school in the UK is like, so I guess I'll do it for her.
Kudos: 7





	1. Chapter 1

The envelope had felt oddly heavy to Harry, made of the same posh kind of paper as the wedding invitations his Aunt Petunia had received last summer- Harry had stayed home with Mrs Figg, so couldn't attest to the quality of the wedding itself, but had fetched the post that day, and marvelled at the paper, until Uncle Vernon tore it from his hands. Here, in a rickety shack, with a giant man, his shaking aunt and his almost purple uncle, the envelope made him feel like king of the world.

“Hagrid,” he said quietly, “I think you must have made a mistake. I don’t think I can be a wizard.” The bearded man chuckled warmly, “Not a wizard, eh? Never made things happen when you was scared, or angry?”

  
Well...of course strange things happened, but that was normal, a coincidence, his headteacher had said, when Mrs Waverley's wig turned blue while she scolded him. That's what this must be, he decided, a coincidence, right?

  
“See?” said Hagrid. “Harry Potter, not a wizard – you wait, you’ll be right famous at Hogwarts.” Famous? that couldn't be possible! He wears his cousins hand-me-downs, and his hair never lays flat. Harry could never be famous.

  
Uncle Vernon interrupted before Harry could ask. “Haven’t I told you he’s not going?” he hissed. “He’s going to Stonewall High and he’ll be grateful for it. I’ve read those letters and he needs all sorts of rubbish – spell books and wands and – “

  
“If he wants ter go, a great Muggle like you won’t stop him,” growled Hagrid. “Stop Lily an’ James Potter’s son goin’ ter Hogwarts! Yer mad. His name’s been down ever since he was born. He’s off ter the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world. Seven years there and he won’t know himself. He’ll be with youngsters of his own sort, fer a change, an’ he’ll be under the greatest Headmaster Hogwarts ever had, Albus Dumbled-“

  
“I AM NOT PAYING FOR SOME CRACKPOT OLD FOOL TO TEACH HIM MAGIC TRICKS!” yelled Uncle Vernon.

  
At first, it looked like Hagrid would explode, and he started to speak in a low tone. Then, a woman Harry hadn't noticed before spoke up. "You won't be paying for anything, Mr Dursley. His tuition was paid in full when he was born. Fleamont Potter, rest his soul, was a very smart investor after all." The woman was solidly built, and could be anywhere from 40 to 100 years old in Harry's book. She was wearing a long, collared dress, and an apron, like a nurse in one of Uncle Vernon's war movies, but she spoke sharply, and with such authority that Uncle Vernon looked like a chastised school boy. "Harry, my name is Miss Candledown, Matron for Gryffindor House. It is very nice to meet you." She held out her hand for him to shake. Maybe I am a celebrity, Harry thought, he could count the number of handshakes he had given on one hand, and one of them had been to a very short, very old man, who Aunt Petunia had called a pervert.

  
"Oh _Vernon_ ," Aunt Petunia cried, burying herself dramatically in his chest. "What will we tell the neighbours!?"

  
"Well, Mrs Dursley, I imagine you'll tell them that Harry here will be attending a _highly_ prestigious boarding school, just as your son will. I'm sure you'd be interested to know that my younger sister is Matron at Smeltings. Perhaps I could put in a good word with Clarice for your _darling_ Dudley?" Despite Miss Candledown's sarcastic tone, Aunt Petunia looked mollified at the praise for her son.

  
"Ah. Well, I suppose, maybe--"

  
"--I've already said NO!" said Vernon, continuing his tirade, "We thought we could stamp it out, same as any other oddity. If he'd had a stutter, I'd have beat it out of him just the same!"

  
One bristly eyebrow arched questioningly.

  
" _Beat_ , Mr Dursley? Surely you _haven't_ been abusing this child, placed in _your_ care?" Miss Candledown sounded dangerous, like Petunia when Harry burned breakfast, and Harry was reminded of a ticking bomb. Maybe Uncle Vernon had cut the wrong wire.

  
"It is a _man's_ right to smack his child--"

  
Harry watched as Hagrid reached for his umbrella with a thunderous expression, but Miss Candledown stopped him with a gesture, tapping the stick poking from her apron pocket.

  
"--No, _sir_ , it is not. Especially, as Harry is not your child. I think it might be best if Harry came with us now, don't you agree?"

  
Petunia nodded shakily. "I'm glad we've sorted that out." Her smile wasn't as friendly as it had been earlier. "Now, Harry, I am going to apparate us to Diagon Ally. I need you to hold my hand tight, and I will explain everything when we get there."

  
"Appar--" Harry's question was halted as he gripped the elder woman's hand, and suddenly, he felt the odd sensation of being squeezed through a bendy straw at high speed, then, just as suddenly, there was ground beneath him, and his knees were buckling as he hit the floor. Looking around, they were in a...pub? The large room had several mismatched wooden tables, surrounded by even more mismatched chairs, and the sticky, patterned carpet that every pub in Britain has. Along one side of the room, there was a long wooden bar, with tarnished taps which read 'Odgen's Butterbeer', 'Impish Lager', and 'Redknapp Cider'. It was early on the morning of Harry's birthday, and a few patrons still lingered; a man swaying and singing drunkenly in a corner, a woman levitating nuts into her mouth with the flick of her finger, and a...humanoid lump, asleep on a table close to the fireplace, but for the most part, they were alone.

  
"I apologise Harry, I understand that you probably haven't been apparated anywhere before, and it is not the most comfortable form of transportation" She said, with a dry smile.

  
"I can think of plenty more comfortable ways..." Harry grumbled as Miss Candledown walked to bar, and had a short conversation with a man who looked more walnut than human. The man turned to smile at him with far too few teeth, then turned to an owl sitting on a perch near the bar, which, Harry quickly discovered, wasn't stuffed. "Oi, We got a message for 'agrid. Think ya can manage it?" The owl perked up, flew over to take the missive Matron held and the barman held out his hand. Two copper coins were promptly placed in his palm. "Thank you, Tom."

Miss Candledown strode back towards him, and said, "Hagrid knows we made it here safely. You will see him again when term starts. For now," she glanced down at a pocket watch that seemed to appear from nowhere, "It is 1:03 am, and you, young man, are well overdue a good nights rest. You'll meet the rest tomorrow, and I'll answer any questions."

  
"The rest?" Harry asked.

  
"The other muggleborns, of course, plus one or two half bloods, and a few others with no one to take them school shopping."

  
Shopping? Harry didn't have any money, although if what Hagrid said was true, maybe he did! Muggleborns? Half Bloods? Questions whizzed through his head, and out of his mouth before he could think.

"All will be explained in the morning, dear child. Now, bed!" Matron said with a soft look on her face, "You are just like your mother was when I brought her here."

  
Tucked in a soft bed for the first time in his life, Harry fell asleep to the sound of Matron mumbling to herself as she wrote at the desk in the corner of the twin room Tom had lead them to, and wondered if this is how his mother had felt, all those years ago.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Meeting the Muggles

The next morning, Harry rose with the sun, as usual, and had to pinch himself. He was...magic? A wizard? And there was a school for people like him, where his mother and father had gone. James, and Lily, his parents. Who were wizards, who...died in a car crash?

In the bed across the room, Matron stirred, and Harry watched through squinted eyes as she waved her stick, and...clothes appeared? Oh...they had left in such a hurry, all of his things were still with the Dursley's, although it was only clothes, and apparently, that wouldn't be an issue with Matron around. Harry stretched exaggeratedly, to show that he had only just woken up, and clearly hadn't been watching Matron surreptitiously.

"Good morning Harry," she said with a chuckle in her voice. "It's quite alright, I knew you were awake, so you don't need to bother with the charade." Matron's accent was posher than Harry's, but not by much. She sounded like Aunt Petunia answering the phone.

"Oh. G'Morning. Do you think you could answer some questions now?"

"Eager, aren't you? I've asked Tom to bring us some breakfast, so in the meantime, why don't you tell me what you know, and I'll fill in the blanks." Miss Candledown said with a cheery smile, picking up two steaming cups of tea from the sideboard. "How do you take your tea?"

Even though the sum total of what Harry knew was zero, Miss Candledown spent the next three quarters of an hour blowing holes in everything he thought he knew. When she told him his parents hadn't died in a car accident, but had been killed by an evil wizard, she looked at him with pity. Her expression had been thunderous as she told him his parents hadn't been jobless layabouts, but wonderful, intelligent people, fighting in a war that led to their deaths. Slowly, he learned his life story, until Matron clapped her hands, and said, "Its almost 8 o'clock, the other students will be here soon, and I have to be downstairs to tick them off my list." A blue clipboard appeared beside her, and floated at hip height all the way downstairs to the main room of the pub. It was a little more crowded that morning; a group of women was gossiping by the fireplace, and a few lone men stood by the bar, not talking to each other. All eyes were on Harry when they entered, but Matron shot a quick glare at anyone who looked too interested, and led him to a door on the other side of the pub. "I always tell the muggle parents to meet us outside the chemist a few doors down, otherwise, the repelling charms get them a little turned around.

Outside the chemist, Harry and Matron were eventually joined by a loud girl, with hair even bigger than her voice, who introduced herself as Hermione Granger, and her parents, who seemed a little...fazed, but said they 'only wanted the best for their little girl'. Harry thought they seemed nice, and Hermione had started telling him about a book she had read about a girl who finds a magical world in a wardrobe. Harry hadn't read it, (Dudley would have had a field day), but chimed in when she mentioned a talking lion. "I wonder if we'll learn to talk to lions? Although I'd rather start with something smaller...a house cat?"

Justin Finch-Fletchley strolled up to them next, introducing himself in a pompous voice and said "Perhaps, Hogwarts will be up to standard. I was going to go to Eton, you know?" His parents had looked down their noses at Harry, in the jumper Matron had transfigured, and started a conversation with the Grangers about the 'profitability of dentistry', and whether or not Hogwarts really was as good as the letter said, seeing as one of them had a cousin in some government department or other.

He was followed by a taller boy, Dean Thomas, who only brought his mother and instantly started a conversation about football. Finally! Something Harry could at least understand, even if he wasn't very good at playing the sport itself. They talked about Manchester United until the last few kids arrived.

Sally-Anne was quiet, and came alone, not speaking until Matron introduced her. Carl and Wayne Hopkins were brothers, who joined the conversation about football. Wayne was in Harry's year, but Carl was in the year above. Their mum had said they could come on their own, as long as they checked in with matron. While they were there, three other families had walked past, smiling and nodding at matron, sometimes stopping long enough to say hi to the new 'firsties'. The last family to walk past had sneered at the group, and the blond-headed father had said "I think someone ought to sweep the street later." Matron had not looked impressed.

After the entire list had been checked off- Matron had let Harry use her quill to tick the names, since he had got there first, technically- She started her speech.

"Good Morning everyone," She said with a cheerful smile, "My name, as you know, is Miss Candledown, Matron of Gryffindor house. It is a pleasure to see so many new faces. This year, I have the pleasure of introducing you to the world of magic, as the Matrons of the other houses alternate years. You will hear all about the other houses in September, but for now, lists out, and we will head to the bank first." With that, Matron strode into the pub, much to the confusion of the students following her.


	3. Kings Cross Station

A few weeks later, Harry Potter walked into Kings Cross alone - the Dursley's had returned to a 'stern talking-to' from Miss Candledown, and had been treating Harry like a real child, albeit one they didnt particularly like. Dudley was even behaving himself! Although that might have been because any time he opened his mouth, pink bubbles floated out for almost a week...

Kings Cross was far from busy at 11 o'clock in the morning, rush hour was just beginning to die down, but the large entrance hall was still full off tourists and businessmen alike. And, in one corner, was a woman, wearing the same dress as Matron had on the trip to Diagon Ally. She was far taller than Miss Candledown, and thinner too, with a neck to rival Aunt Petunuia's. With her, stood the four other muggleborns Harry had met that summer, and Hermione jumped and waved at him when their eyes met. Like someone picking a friend up from the airport, she was holding a large cardboard sign.

'St Edwins' School for Gifted Children'.

Before his eyes, the green ink shimmered and snaked across the page.

'Hogwarts School for Witchcraft and Wizardry'

Harry gasped and looked around quickly... No one else seemed to have noted the change.

"Name?" asked the woman, as Harry approached.

"Harry Potter"

"You are late, Mr Potter. The established time of this meeting was half past 10, so we could all board with plenty of time." She said shortly. Before Harry could apologise, she continued, "My name is Ms Selpie. You will address me as Ma'am. I am the matron of Slytherin House at Hogwarts."

"Nice t' meet you, ma'am" Harry said bashfully. He made a note to never cross Ms Selpie; She seemed like the type of woman his Uncle Vernon would like.

Together, the small group made their way to the wall between platforms 9 and 10. Harry racked his brain, had Miss Candledown given them instructions? Was this maniac kidnapping them? Just as it occurred to Harry to ask what was going on, Ms Selpie strode into the wall assuredly...and passed straight through. The children gawped for a moment, until a lone head appeared from the other side.

"Come along First Years." Selpie's sharp tone made Harry move his feet, close his eyes and... step onto a platform that hadn't been there before. A gleaming scarlet steam train seemed to stretch for miles into the distance, and teenagers swarmed the platform. A few older students stood in a huddle, looking at something a boy was holding; "Mcgonagall will have your bollocks for that, Lee". Harry tried to peer over the shoulders of two ginger boys, but even stood on tiptoes, whatever Lee had was a mystery, and Selpie had continued to march onwards, tailed by the other First Years. Harry ran to catch up, as another two boys joined the group.

"Are you a Firstie too? Selpie is mad, according to my brothers. She once gave them a week of detention, all for one tiny prank." said the ginger boy, who had dirt on his nose, but a massive grin.

"Uh, yes?" Harry said," She seems...strict"

"Course, the twins did blow up a toilet in the girl loos, but that part was actually accidental. I'm Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley."

"My name's Harry." How did one blow up a toilet by accident, Harry wondered as the boy continued to talk. The other child had blond hair, plastered to his scarp with gel, and was holding a frog with both hands, whispering platitudes.

"It's alright Trevor, it's a train. You're a good toad Trev, just stay put a little longer."

"Is that...a toad?" Harry asked. "Isn't he supposed to have a cage? Or a box."

"He did," the other boy said miserably, "but he ran off, and my gran had the box, and I had to join you lot in the first year's carriage, so..." The boy held open the big poket on the hip of his school robes, which he had already put on, and dropped Trevor in with a bitter "I didn't even ask for a toad."

While they talked, other students joined them, some walking up on their own, and others tearfully hugging their parents, who urged them into the gaggle surrounding Ms Selpie. All together, about 40 students surrounded the Slytherin matron as they reached the front car of the train.

"All First Years are to sit in the first carriage, so I can keep an eye on you. You may ask permission to sit with siblings or friends, but at the end of our journey, report back to me." Selpie's voice was grating. A floating quill noted down names as Ms Selpie counted the first group of students into the carriage.

"Hey, Harry?" Ron whispered, "You wanna sit together? My brothers said they'd sick Jordan's spider on me if I came and sat with them." Ron's freckled face looked stricken at the thought.

"Course, and you can sit with us too," Harry grinned at the other boy.

"Thanks. I'm Neville. Neville Longbottom." He added his last name with a wince. Harry didn't envy him, Neville was going to end up with all sorts of awful nicknames, and would have to live with them for the next seven years. 

"Mind your step," a snide voice called, "Mud like that can be a little... slippery."

A boy even blonder than Neville, and as thin as Harry stood behind the group of boys. Harry thought he recognise him from somewhere.

"I know you, Longbottom. Your Grandfather sat on the Wizengamot with mine. I wouldn't like to think of you lowering yourself to such a standard." The boy paused, and looked Ron up and down. "Hanging out with... what? A redhead like that must be a Weasley, " His head turned towards Harry. "And he didn't even have parents to take him to Diagon! I saw him with Candledown." Harry had never seen a smugger look, except perhaps when Dudley wrestled 6 extra birthday gifts from his parents that summer.

"M--Ma--Malfoy." Neville looked on the brink of unconsciousness.

"Malfoy?" Ron said. "My Dad told me about you! I don't think Nev could do much worse that a lying cheater like you!" Ron had turned the same colour as his hair, and stepped off of the train to be on Malfoy's level.

"My father--" Malfoy began. 

Harry caught Matron's eye, and she didn't look particularly likely to intervene before the boys came to blows.

"C'mon Lads," Harry called out loudly, "before all the good compartments are gone!"

Ron was loathe to turn away, but did, trailing after Harry and Neville, mumbling something about "I could've taken him, weedy git." Harry tended to agree, but none of them needed detention before they'd even got to Hogwarts.

The friends found an empty compartment eventually. No one had wanted to join Hermione, who was reading alone when Harry had passed her and suggested it, so they settled closest to the engine, and sat on the worn red leather seats smiling.

"I can't believe Malfoy", Ron started as Harry shut the door. "Who does he think he is? I've heard some awful stuff about his 'father'."

Nev groaned. "Doesn't matter what you've heard. I'd bet an Agrippa that he's going to write home, then they'll write my gran, and then I'll get a howler."

"Bet Agrippa?" Harry said, in attempt to restore the peace between his two new friends. The conversation was quickly overtaken by discussions of Chocolate Frogs, and how had Harry never had one, which led to all sorts of wizard sweets, which all sounded wicked. About an hour later, when another woman in a matron's uniform came around with a sweet trolley, Harry bought three of everything, much to Ron's surprise.

"Harry, mate, how are you gonna eat all that?" Ron said, pulling out his sandwiches.

"I'm not," Harry laughed, "We are."

The boys dug in with aplomb, and by the time the conversation got around to family, their appetites were all sated. Ron came from a large wizarding family, with more brothers than Harry could imagine, and one younger sister, who'd come to Hogwarts next year. Neville lived with his Gran, and didn't have any siblings, but he was technically cousins with a lot of kids at Hogwarts, and already knew some people in their year.

"My parents were wizards, but I grew up with my aunt and uncle, and they're muggles." It felt odd to call the Dursley's muggles, but it was apt. "My mum and dad died when I was a baby." Harry looked at the floor.

"Wait!" Ron said excitedly, "Harry? You're never Harry Potter?" Oh...people knew his name.

"Er...Yeah," Harry said. "I sort of forgot to tell you?"

"Do you-- Do you have the--" Ron gestured at his own forehead, and Harry lifted his fringe with a grin.

"Wicked!" Ron looked a little in awe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my update schedule is pretty much non-existent, so have another chapter, while i feel inspired

**Author's Note:**

> Not Beta'd, but I tried my best. This idea has been bugging me all day! Like... our old PM (David Cameron) 'allegedly' got a bj from a pig as part of hazing at eton... tell me hogwarts wouldn't have that! they're magic, they've all done weird shit!  
> anyway, this fic is probably gonna be mostly centred on actual classes, and school activities, and the friendships between the characters, plus voldie is there, i guess?


End file.
